


Learning to Submit

by Requested



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Child Abuse, Gags, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Public Sex, Sibling Incest, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2033688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Requested/pseuds/Requested
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam was born, John gave him to Dean to dom, to own, and to take care of. He has been quite the handful since. </p><p>This is a series of short outtakes with Sam growing up in a BDSM lifestyle with Dean as his Dom. Prompt is given in the first chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural. The layout of “When Sam turned ____, Dean was ____. ” belongs to yaoiigirl22’s “Beyond the Stars” at the bottom of chapter 3 over at Fanfiction.net. Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7868834/1/Beyond-The-Stars. Any other references to any other work is purely coincidental, subconscious, or related to the public prompt. I do not condone sex with minors or child abuse - this is a fanfic and therefore fiction. Please don't do anything like this in real life. 
> 
> Prompt:  
> http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/87167.html?thread=33335935#t33335935
> 
> The boys grow up as hunters in a 24/7 BDSM lifestyle with John raising Dean as a Dom to sub!Sam. Sam was born specifically to be Dean's slave and always been aware of this. He's only allowed to call Dean 'Master' and John 'Sir'. Dean allows him to call John 'daddy' on Sam's birthday and lets him be a normal little boy for that one special day each year. 
> 
> Starting as young as the writer is comfortable with (hopefully 5 or younger), Dean uses various levels of bondage (cuffs on wrists and ankles and collar, gags, blindfolds, restraints in bed-- would love to see full body wrapping/immobilization/sensory deprivation lasting from an hour to a few days) and discipline (spankings as a baby and toddler then full-on whippings when older) on Sam, gives him enemas and uses catheters and sounds. All forms of watersports are okay. 
> 
> Sam has quite a few piercings (ears, nipples, genitals), tattoos and a couple of brands, all chosen or designed by Dean. Any and all sex from young age (fingering, anal, toys) and lots and lots of kissing, fondling, nudity, public sex, public whipping all welcome.
> 
> John helps young Dean with a lot of this but Dean is in complete control of Sam's life, when and what he eats, when he sleeps, pees, etc. Dean is a very strict Dom, always pushing Sam to the very limit of using his safeword but John won't interfere even when Sam is clearly distressed. John also helps Dean comfort Sam after particularly intense scenes such as his first tattoo or brand. He will only touch Sam in a sexual manner with Dean's permission. Sam is still very young (7 or 8) when John comes back from a very traumatic hunt involving kids the same age as Sam. Dean knows being with Sam will help John recover, so lets John take Sam to his bed for the night. So far, John has only ever been allowed to kiss Sam and some light fondling always under Dean's supervision. John is so surprised by this and gets very emotional, breaking down and sobbing as he thanks Dean.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gives Dean the best present of his life.

Learning to Submit

The Gift

When Sam was born, Dean was four. John gave Dean the best present of his life – Sam.

John checked that Mary was napping upstairs. They had just taken Sammy home from the hospital that morning. She was exhausted. John gave a soft smile at the sight and closed the bedroom door. He continued down the hall until he reached his oldest son Dean’s bedroom. 

“Hey, buddy. Follow me. I got a treat for you.” John softly called from the doorway. Dean ran to his dad, leaving behind the large toy dumpster truck he had been playing with. As soon as Dean was in arms’ reach, John swung him up and carried him to the last bedroom on the right, right next to the stairs. It was the nursery. 

“Do you know who that is, buddy?”

Dean nodded, “That’s Sammy.”

“And who does Sammy belong to?”’

“I dunno.”

“Sammy now belongs to you. I am going to give him to you. You need to take very good care of him now, buddy. Because if you do, you are going to have his love for the rest of your life. And if he loves you, he will never leave you. Do you promise me that you will take good care of him?” 

“Yes, daddy, I promise.” Dean stared down at the sleeping baby. 

“You should give him a kiss, Deano. Good owners always make sure that their pets know they are loved.” Still in his father’s arms, Dean leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on the baby’s forehead. 

“You belong to me,” Dean told him as a promise. “I will take good care of you.”


	2. The Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean teaches Sam the word, "Master."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural. The layout of “When Sam turned ____, Dean was ____. ” belongs to yaoiigirl22’s “Beyond the Stars” at the bottom of chapter 3 over at Fanfiction.net. Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7868834/1/Beyond-The-Stars. Any other references to any other work is purely coincidental, subconscious, or related to the public prompt. I do not condone sex with minors or child abuse - this is a fanfic and therefore fiction. Please don't do anything like this in real life.

When Sammy turned 1, Dean was 5. He taught Sam to call him “Master.”

Sammy was going to town crawling around on the motel floor murmuring nonsense to himself. He had recently begun to expand his very limited vocabulary. Dean was “D”, John was “Da” and he also knew “Blee” for blanket and “tutle” for bottle. Dean occasionally glanced at him from the bed to make sure he didn’t put anything he found in his mouth, but really he was paying attention to the television. John was sitting in the corner going over musty, old books about demons and ghosts. He was hunting the creature that killed Mary.

“I own you. I am your master and you will do well to call me as such…” the TV said. Dean had his eyes and ears glued to the television. 

“Daddy, why does that man want the boy to call him master?” Dean asked. John looked up and saw Dean watching something he really shouldn’t be watching.

“Because that boy needs to earn the right to call his master by his name. Calling him master is a sign of respect,” John explained. “Dean, why don’t you turn the TV off and do your homework? You have to color that picture for class tomorrow, right?”

Dean obediently turned off the television and got out his crayons, but he didn’t color. Instead, he just stared at Sammy, the wheels in his head were spinning. After a few minutes, John got up. He told Dean that he needed to make a phone call outside.

“Sammy,” Dean called out to him as soon as John was outside. Sammy looked up. “Who am I?”

Sammy smiled and laughed, this made the little 5 year old frustrated. He picked up the baby and sat him on his lap. 

“Who am I?”

“Da.”

“No, I’m not Daddy. Who am I?”

“D. D. D. D. D.”

“Yep, I am Dean, but you’re not gonna call me that anymore. You’re gonna call me Master.” Dean said as he wiggled his finger in front of Sammy. Sammy reached out to grab the finger. When he caught it, he laughed and stuck it in his mouth. As he gnawed on the finger, Dean slowly repeated, “Master. Maaaasssssttteerrrrr. Com’on Sammy, say it.” 

Sammy looked up at his big brother with wide baby eyes. “D?” This in baby speak obviously meant, ‘I have no clue what you want from me.’

Dean looked upset. “No, I’m Master. Repeat it,” his voice was getting louder by the minute. Sammy, reacting to Dean being upset, started to cry. That is when John came back into the room. John took one look at Dean and Sam. He calmly asked Dean, “Do you need help, buddy?”

Sam was still crying at this point. Dean looked up at his dad, “No, he has ta learn.” Dean looked down at Sammy and he yelled at the baby, “Now, shut up! Just shut up.”

Unfortunately, babies don’t respond well to yelling. Now, Sammy was screaming at the top of his lungs. Dean continued to scream, so Sammy responded in kind. John leaned against the motel desk and observed his boys. Nearly in tears himself, Dean looked up at his dad. “He won’t stop,” Dean complained with a sniff. John smiled and sat down on the bed next to Dean.

“Well, Dean, why don’t you start by hugging him and telling him that you are not mad at him?” Dean obediently picked Sammy up and started to cuddle him. Wrapped up in his brother’s arms, all was forgiven and Sam finally decided to calm down.

“I am not mad at you,” he cooed into baby Sam’s ear. Sam blinked up at Dean and Dean leaned down to kiss his snotty-nosed, crying faced brother. “See? I love you.” Dean looked up at his dad. “Okay, now what?”

“Well, Sammy is a baby, Deano. He doesn’t learn things as fast as you do. So, why don’t we go slow? You are trying to get Sammy to call you master, right? Why don’t you start by introducing yourself to him as his master?”

Dean looked down at Sam, pointed at himself and in his best possible TV impression repeated, “I own you. I am your master and you will call me as such.” John silently laughed to himself. These two were going to keep him on his toes.

“Now, it is going to take him a couple of days, Dean, but keep telling him that and he will eventually get it.” And by golly, John was right. By the end of the next week, little Sammy was constantly calling out to his “Mat-ter.”


	3. The Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sammy learns that he shouldn't open doors up by himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural. The layout of “When Sam turned ____, Dean was ____. ” belongs to yaoiigirl22’s “Beyond the Stars” at the bottom of chapter 3 over at Fanfiction.net. Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7868834/1/Beyond-The-Stars. Any other references to any other work is purely coincidental, subconscious, or related to the public prompt. I do not condone sex with minors or child abuse - this is a fanfic and therefore fiction. Please don't do anything like this in real life.

Learning to Submit

The Adventure

When Sammy turned 2, Dean was 6. Sammy learned that he shouldn’t open doors up by himself.

Sammy was quite the adventurous toddler. A little over two years old, he was constantly opening up the bathroom door to play. Why the bathroom? Why not? It had awesome toys for Sammy like a little rubber duck, roll-y paper, minty paste for painting and all other types of items. One time, he found Daddy’s shaving cream. He couldn’t stop giggling as white stuff sprayed all over the bathroom. Unfortunately, Daddy and Master were not amused at the mess. 

Today, Dean was playing with his toy cars and didn’t want to be bothered. Daddy was out. Sammy was supposed to be watching the TV, but that was boring. Very quickly, Sammy decided that being an octopus was way “funner” than being a Sammy. But first, he had to look like an octopus. So, he stuffed Master’s and Daddy’s dirty shirts down his pants for extra arms and ran over to the bathroom. Making sure Master was not looking so he wouldn’t get in trouble, he got up on the very top of his tippy toes and pulled on the door knob. 

Now, everyone knows "octopuses" need water. So to make himself wet, he put Master’s and Daddy’s shirts in the water bowl and soaked them. Then he tried to pull all of the shirts back out, but he couldn’t reach the last one. That’s ok, Master will help him get it later. Sammy tried to stick the shirts back into his pants, but they kept falling out. 

Being an octopus was boring too, Sammy decided. They were wet and cold and didn’t have any friends. So, Sammy chose to be an explorer – they had real fun – finding new places, fighting monsters and climbing things. Now, everyone knows that explorers travel in the dark and they have to hide sometimes from the bad monsters. Sammy figured that the best place to explore was under the sink cabinet. 

o . o . o

It was about this time that Dean looked up to see Sam not in front of the TV. Just great, Dean did not need this right now. Why couldn’t his troublesome brother just do what he was supposed to do? Dean looked under the bed – Sammy sometimes hid out under there when he thought no one was looking. He had even taken to hiding just one of Dean’s and/or Dad’s shoes. Like a freakin' puppy. Nope. Not there. 

“Sammy? Where are you?” Dean looked around. It’s a small motel room. He didn’t really have all that many places to hide. If he wasn’t under the beds, then he was obviously in the bathroom. Dean peeked his head in the bathroom. 

“Sam, answer me.” He looked around. But all he saw was three wet T-shirts on the ground. Oh, that little … He wasn’t in here. Just for sanity’s sake, Dean checked the tub and saw his favorite T-Shirt stuck in the bottom of the toilet. That bitch. He was going to get it.

“SAM?! Where are you?” Dean thundered. Dean ran back out to the main room and threw open the closet doors. No. Dean looked at the front door. He wasn’t allowed to go outside, neither was Sammy. Sammy wouldn’t have gone outside, would he? Dean would have noticed, wouldn’t he have? No, no way. He checked all of the salt lines. The one by the window was messed up. Oh, God. He was a horrible master. A ghost or a demon must have eaten his little brother. 

Dean was in tears by the time he had John on the phone. 

“Daddy?” Dean hiccupped. 

“Buddy, what’s wrong?”

“Sammy’s gone. I can’t find him.” 

o . o . o

As soon as Master started to yell, Sammy got real quiet. He didn’t want to be in trouble. He knew he was supposed to listen to Master, but it wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to watch the stupid show about the talking ponies. Ponies weren’t cool like cars or turtles or octopuses or adventures. With thoughts of going on great big adventures with his Master, Sammy fell asleep.

It must have been almost an hour before Sammy awoke. But when he woke up, it was pitch dark and he didn’t remember where he was. He wanted Master. 

o . o . o

By the time John got home, Dean was just sniffling. Daddy would find Sammy. He knew he would. Daddy was the best superhero. John began to grill Dean.

“Did anyone knock on the door? Or call?” Dean shook his head. 

“Did Sammy ever leave the room?”

“I don’t think so,” came the soft reply.

“Dean, you need to think. Where was the last place you saw Sammy? What was he doing?” As Dean started to answer, a harsh crying sound was coming from the bathroom. Dean ran, shouting, “Sam? SAMMY?”

As he soon as he heard the sound coming from the cabinets, he yanked them open and then yanked Sam into his arms. 

“Thank God. What were you doing in there? Why didn’t you answer me?” Dean demanded as he tightened his hold painfully. He kissed the top of his little brother’s head. Thank God he was ok. Instead of answering, Sammy was busy rubbing his snotty nose all over Dean’s shirt. “Sam?”

“I fell asleep. I di’n’t mean ta.” 

“You fell asleep? Really? You couldn’t answer me because you were too busy napping like a baby?”

“I’m not a baby. I’m a big boy.” Sam’s language slurred from the tears. 

“No, you’re not. Big boys don’t need naps,” Dean snapped. John observed from the doorway. Dean looked up at his dad; he could feel him making judgments. Dean continued, “You're not allowed in here anymore. If I find out you went in here without me, you are going to be in such big trouble.”

o . o . o

It was later that night when both Daddy and Master were sleeping that Sammy lay awake. Due to his nap earlier, he wasn’t tired. Honestly, he tried to stay in bed next to Master. Honestly, he waited for forever. But Master wasn’t waking up, the sun wasn’t shining and the rooster wasn’t crowing. Sammy decided to have another adventure. But he couldn’t have an adventure here; Master would wake up. And he couldn’t have an adventure in the bath tub either; Master would get mad. So, he would just have to have an adventure in the Impala. 

Sammy shuffled down the bed and onto the floor. He could be a race car driver like Speed Racer cartoon Master always watched. The Impala could have cool gadgets like oil slick and a hook thing-y for other cars. Sam got to the front door and tried to open the handle. But it was locked. Hmmm. He jiggled the door handle again on his tiptoes. 

Unfortunately, both Master and Daddy woke to the sound of Sammy trying to escape out the front door. 

“What are you doing, son?” John answered – now wide awake. 

“I’m bored. I wanna go play.” Sammy answered. Master had somehow appeared next to Sam, furious. He gripped the back of Sam’s neck tightly. 

“Owwie! Master!” Sam complained. Dean didn’t loosen his grip though. He pushed him onto their bed and turned to the suitcases on the side of the room. 

“I told you, you would regret it if you did it again.”

“But I didn’t go to the bathroom. I was gonna go play in the ‘Pala.” Sammy answered like it was the most natural thing in the world, but it seemed like Master wasn’t paying attention. He was still going through their bags as he pulled out one of Daddy’s ties. 

“You are never going anywhere. You’re mine. You belong to me. Say it, Sammy.”

“I b'long to you.”

“Now, tell me you will never leave me.”

“I will nev’r leave you.”

“No, you won’t.” Master promised darkly. With that, he tied one of Sam’s wrists to the headboard. Sammy cried. John watched; he was going to have to teach Dean how to tie a proper knot tomorrow. And Master scooted into bed and began to pet his crying slave to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: For some reason, this fic isn't getting updated in the Supernatural fic list. Does anyone know what I can do to fix this?


	4. The Spanking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural. The layout of “When Sam turned ____, Dean was ____. ” belongs to yaoiigirl22’s “Beyond the Stars” at the bottom of chapter 3 over at Fanfiction.net. Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7868834/1/Beyond-The-Stars. Any other references to any other work is purely coincidental, subconscious, or related to the public prompt. I do not condone sex with minors or child abuse - this is a fanfic and therefore fiction. Please don't do anything like this in real life.

Learning to Submit

Chapter 4 The Spanking

When Sammy turned 3, Dean was 7. Sammy learned not to play with Dean’s toys.

Master always got the coolest toys. He got cars that moved forward when you pushed them back in cool colors like hot orange and red and blue. He also got plastic army men and real Legos. Sammy had toys like some teddy bears and a really big old truck and crayons. Who wants to color when you could be playing with Legos and cars?

Sammy sure didn’t. Sammy pushed the bright orange car forward. “VROOOM!!!! VR –VR – VROOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!” The tiny Hot Wheels car defied gravity doing all sorts of back flips and front flips and driving upside down. This is how you play with cars. Sammy was having a ball before bedtime. Maybe Master would let him stay up a little later than normal so he could finish his epic race?

“Hey!” Master emerged from the bathroom still slightly wet from his nighttime bath. “That’s mine!” He yanked the toy out of Sammy’s hand. 

“But that’s not fair!!!” Sammy protested. “Daddy!” 

John didn't even look up from his readings as he replied, “Sam, you know the rules. Dean, if Sammy is doing something bad, a good master punishes them. He doesn’t allow them to complain to others.”

Dean looked up and down at Sam. With childlike simplicity, he said, “Ok, you need to be punished.” 

Sam looked even more upset. He was just playing with the cars. He hadn't broken anything. Why did he need to do everything Master said anyways? “That’s not fair!”

“Suck it up, you big baby. Ok, you need a time out.” Dean sounded almost too happy to say that. Sammy knew where this was going. He was going to tie him up on the bed and leave him there for forever while Dean played with the cars. 

“No, Dean.” Dean’s good mood disappeared. He was Master to Sam and Sam knew that. But he was tired and he had been having fun earlier before Dean had to ruin everything. 

“Who am I, Sam?” Sam's lip stuck out in a pout. Dean continued, “So, you’re too big now for a time out? Well, how about a spanking?”

Dean manhandled his brother over his lap and began to spank the squirming toddler. Hearing the crying, John turned to face Dean. 

“Dean.” Dean didn’t stop. “Dean,” John repeated from his chair in the corner of the room but made no other move to stop him. Dean looked up, Sammy was crying on his lap. 

“If you want the lesson to stick, you should make him count the spankings and apologize for what he did wrong.” Dean nodded at his Dad. 

“You heard him Sammy. You are going to count and apologize. You hear me?” Sammy nodded his head. Dean brought his hand down hard. Sammy screamed. And cried. Dean waited patiently. 

After a few seconds, Sammy said, “One. I’m sorry for playin’ with your toys.” Dean gave Sammy four more swats. By the end, he wasn't pausing between the cries. Never before had Master hit him!

After about 5 minutes of listening to the racket, Dean complained to his dad about the loud noise. John told him that good Masters will sometimes gag their pets if they wouldn’t be quiet. So Dean took on of Daddy’s really big socks and duct tape and taped Sammy’s mouth shut. Then he proceeded to tie Sammy to the bed like he had every night for the past year or so. Even though Sammy was still crying, Master kissed his forehead, commanded him to go to sleep and sat down to play with his toy cars. Dean decided he liked the gag if it kept Sammy this quiet.


	5. The Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: (SPOILER/WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER) So, I don’t know if you noticed last chapter, Dean was a little darker than before. This continues into this chapter creating outright abuse. This chapter was written with the idea that people with unchecked power tend to abuse it. Dean is also a little kid – he is going to make mistakes and power is going to go to his head. After this chapter, this should be somewhat resolved as Sam will be able to tell Dean he is at his limit by having a safe word. If you want to skip this chapter – the outcome is that Sam now has Dean’s initials carved in him and now has a safe-word.

Learning to Submit

Chapter 5 The Friend

When Sammy turned 4, Dean was 8. Sammy learned Dean didn’t like it when Sammy made new friends.

Sammy was so excited that he got to go to preschool this week. It had been the best week ever. Sam got to color and play with kids his own age. There was one particular friend who he constantly played with – Danny. Both of them were going to be the best of friends forever. Danny even liked the same things as him --- dinosaurs and cowboys and cars and octopuses. The duo decided to play a game while they waited for their families to pick them up.

“Ok, I’m going to be the prince and I am going to rescue you from the bad dragon!” Danny explained. Sammy smiled his agreement and ran behind the designated dragon – a tall prickly bush with sharp thorns. Danny grabbed a thick stick and held it like a sword.

“I am going to save you Sam!” he called as he sliced and hacked at the bush. 

“Not if I save you first,” Sam laughed as he did the same thing from the other side. The two giggled. The evil dragon bush stood no chance against the terrible might of an imaginary prince and a don in distress. Unfortunately, the bush was not terribly thick and one of the thorny branches was whacked back into Sam’s hand. 

“Owwie!” Sam complained. Seeing his friend hurt, Danny ran over. Sam felt tears well up in his eyes. He wanted Master to kiss it all better, but he also didn’t want to cry in front of his friend either.

“Are you ok?”

“Nu-huh,” Sammy sniffled. “I want my brother. He always kisses it better.” 

“I could kiss it for you.” Sammy looked up. With a watery nod from Sammy, Danny swooped down on one knee and gave Sam’s hand a kiss. “All better!” he declared. The moment looked like something from a fairy tale. Maybe, just maybe, the moment held a little fairytale magic too, because just like that Sam’s hand did feel all better. 

Sam gave a watery smile. “You are really fun to play with,” Sam said.

“You are too. You are so much better than Becca. She always wants to play dolls. And she wants to get married, too.”

“Dolls suck,” Sammy agreed. “Cars and adventures are so much better.”

“I know. Hey, do you think we could get married instead? It would be much more fun and we could always play cars and ninjas.”

Sammy thought about it a minute. Being married to Danny would be fun; they could play doctor and pirates and octopuses. Sam agreed, “Ok.”

Danny smiled and kissed him on the lips. 

“Now, we’re married,” he said and Sammy giggled in response.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?”

o . o . o

Dean was so excited when Dad picked him up from school. School was so boring he would much rather be home with Sam playing. Dad explained what he needed to do for the rest of the week as they walked over to the preschool.

When they were in sight of the school’s playground, Dean noticed Sammy playing with another boy his age. He looked so happy. Dean wasn’t sure what to feel. He wanted to be the only thing that made Sammy happy. He wondered what they were thinking about as they idiotically swung sticks at each other through a bush. 

Dean bristled as the idiot child caused a branch with thorns to go into his brother’s hand. Red clouded his vision – he was going to rip that kid’s face off. No one hurt his brother. He took off.

“Dean,” his dad called out after him. Probably to get him to slow down. But how could he want him to slow down? Some idiot just hurt his baby brother, his property. As he got closer, he noticed the other boy go down on one knee like he was proposing. He kissed Sam’s hand. He kissed Sam’s hand. What the hell was Sammy doing allowing other boys to kiss his hands? 

Dean stopped when he was close enough to hear both of the boys. They hadn’t noticed him yet. Bad Sam, you are always supposed to be on guard. You never know when there is a monster there. In fact, Dean bet the boy next to Sammy was a monster. Maybe he should get his rock salt gun . . . 

“Dolls suck,” Sammy agreed. “Cars and adventures are so much better.”

“I know. Hey, do you think we could get married instead? It would be much more fun and we could always play cars and ninjas.”

Sammy paused. Why did he pause? Well, his brother was normally pretty sweet – maybe he was just letting down the guy easy. Dean was nearly floored when he heard Sam agree. Before Dean could even protest, the kid was freaking kissing his brother on the lips! 

“Now we’re married.”

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Dean all but growled. Both of young kids looked up, startled at their newest group member. 

“I’m gonna get married to Danny so we can play cars and ninjas.” Came Sam’s reply. He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“No, you’re not. I forbid you to get married – ever.”

“Awwww. But …” Sam stopped when he saw Dean’s expression. He turned back to Danny and said dejectedly, “I’m sorry, I can’t marry you.” Sammy looked down at his shoes.

Danny had watched the display just as a waiting John had a few feet away. He seemed curious about Dean – like Dean was the weird one. Dean didn’t get it – Danny is the one freakin’ offering to marry a kid he just met that week. How was he weird? Danny shrugged. “It’s ok, Sam. Becca would probably cry really loudly if I told her we can’t get married.”

Still glaring at the kid, Dean tugged on Sam’s arm, “Come on, let’s go.”

o . o . o

By the time the trio had gotten home, his brother had still not cooled off. He wouldn’t let go of Sam and Sam was getting scared. When they got into the room, Dean went off on a tangent.

“You don’t seem to get it; you are mine. You can’t get married, you can’t go anywhere, you can’t do anything unless I tell you to. You need a reminder. No – you and everyone else need a reminder that you belong to me.” Master pointed to the bed. 

Sam knew better than to argue this time around. Sometimes, you didn’t want to mess with Master. Sam obediently got on the bed and patiently waited for him to tie him down. 

“Roll over on your stomach,” Master said. Master started with two pairs of padded handcuffs. He attached the right hand to the headboard first and then he attached the left one to the headboard so that Sam was on his tummy with both arms stretched out above his hand. Then Master removed his pants and underwear. Sammy sighed. He wondered how many spankings he was going to get today. 

Then Master opened up the drawer in the nightstand and pulled out a gag. Sammy gulped. A gag meant that he was in really big trouble. But what had he done wrong? The older boy forced open his mouth. Sammy bit down on the gag as soon as Master had tied it around his head. Master then did something unusual. He went over to the supply bag and took out rope. 

Sammy whimpered into a pillow as the older boy tied his legs tightly to the bed so that he couldn’t move. What was Master doing? He had never done this before. He didn’t like the constricted feeling or the way the ropes cut into his skin. He was definitely going to have rope burn later.

o . o . o

Dean looked at his baby brother spread on the bed. Where to do it? So many possibilities. His face was out. He didn’t want to permanently scar his brother’s face. Hands and arms were also out because someone could see it and call CPS. His feet? Sammy would have to remember his lesson every time he walked, but no one else would see it. Dean chose the right side of Sam’s butt. He would feel it every time he sat down and everyone else would see it if they tried to take him away from Dean.

“Sam, listen to me. This is going to hurt, but it will be over with sooner if you don’t move.”

Dean slowly took out his pocket knife. He had gotten the blade for his 9th birthday. Dean made a show of cleaning and sharpening it all the time for Sammy. Now, he got to make a show of marking Sam as Dean’s forever. Sitting on the back of his brother’s legs, he carefully held the blade to the soft skin right above the butt cheek and pressed down. Sam screamed louder than he had in a while and tried to kick Dean away, but he was tied down too tightly. Thank God he had gagged him and turned his face into the pillow. He didn’t want anyone reporting the noise.

Slowly, Dean carved his initials ‘DW’ into Sam. Blood was everywhere. Sammy was still crying when Dean turned and asked Dad for help in cleaning Sam up. John taught Dean how to use dental floss and a sewing needle to stich up Sam. He seemed pretty disappointed, but Dean couldn’t figure out why.

o . o . o

Hours later, Sam was still crying and shooting Dean betrayed looks. He sighed. Ok, maybe he had gone rough on the kid – but now stupid Danny would know to keep his freakin’ hands off of him. Only Dean was allowed to give Sammy kisses. Besides, all Sammy needed as a cuddle and he would be as good as new. Maybe he would even beg Dean to go out and play some stupid superhero make believe game. He was gonna be fine.

“Come here, Sam.” He opened his arms out for a hug, but Sammy didn’t run into his arms like he normally does. Visibly shaking, Sam coward under him. “Sam?”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be better. Please don’t do that again,” Sam pleaded. A led weight dropped to the bottom of Dean’s stomach. 

“I won’t,” he found himself promising. “I swear I won’t ever do that again. Come here, Sammy.” Dean found himself holding a trembling younger brother. He planted kisses on his cheeks and gently rubbed his back, but Sam wasn’t reacting like he normally did. He was shaking and crying harder. He hadn’t thrown his arms around Dean like usual. Instead, they were balled around himself – like he was giving himself a hug, comforting himself. 

Dean picked up his baby brother and walked over to the motel desk. John was hunched over the desk going through old newspapers and new maps. He had been tracking a werewolf, trying to find some sort of pattern or hunting ground area. John looked up as he approached. John frowned. Dean figured it was because he was reading his face. 

“He’s scared,” Dean said as he gently deposited Sam into John’s lap. As soon as Sammy was transferred, he immediately flung his arms around John’s middle. Dean felt another clench of jealousy wrap around his insides. He wanted to be the one to comfort his brother. But it was that attitude that had Sam scared shitless, Dean admonished himself. His dad gently wrapped his hands around his baby’s middle and whispered sweeting nothings into his ear. Soon, Sammy was asleep with his head resting in the crook of John’s neck. 

John looked over at Dean. “Son, do you know what a safe-word is?”


	6. The Rodeo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural. The layout of “When Sam turned ____, Dean was ____. ” belongs to yaoiigirl22’s “Beyond the Stars” at the bottom of chapter 3 over at Fanfiction.net. Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7868834/1/Beyond-The-Stars. Any other references to any other work is purely coincidental, subconscious, or related to the public prompt. I do not condone sex with minors or child abuse - this is a fanfic and therefore fiction. Please don't do anything like this in real life.

Learning to Submit

Chapter 6 The Collar

When Sammy turned 5, Dean was 9. Sammy learned Dean didn’t like it when Sammy walked off.

“Dean?” Sammy called out. He was allowed to call Master by his name in public. But every once in a while, he would forget and someone would throw him a confused glance. Sammy looked around – people where everywhere and he couldn’t see Sir or Master.

o . o . o

Earlier that day, Sir had decided to take them to the Houston Rodeo as a special treat. He had finished a case early, Master received an A on a test, and he had followed every order this week. Sir said that it would be good to celebrate.

Unfortunately, it seemed like all of Houston wanted to celebrate. They were in the tent with all of the animal pens – they had bulls, cows, horses and even a kiddy petting zoo with goats and sheep. Master can commanded him to stay by his side at all times, but Sam lost him when he saw other kids petting a foal. Master had been looking at a large black horse at the time. Sammy figured it would be ok just to run over and pet the baby and be right back. Master wouldn’t even know he was gone.

The foal’s coat was soft and warm. 

“Do you want to feed him an apple?” a kind old man asked.

“Can I?” Sam gasped with a smile. The white haired gentleman laughed and handled him about a fourth of an apple. 

“Now remember, you have to put all of your fingers straight and out of the way. Feed him with the palm of your hand.” Sammy giggled when he felt the raspy tongue try to lick his hand to get more of the apple juice off of it.

“He ate it!” Sam laughed. “I’m got to show my brother!” With that Sammy took off running down the aisle. But when he got to the big black horse, he didn’t see his brother or his dad. Where were they?

Sammy started walking through the aisles. He saw families and all different types of animals, but no Master nor Sir. Sam went to the middle aisle out of the 5 long aisles. Maybe Master wanted to pet a goat? Petting a goat would be really fun, Sammy decided he would go back to the petting zoo. 

When he had passed a covered wagon for a third time, Sammy realized he was even more lost.

o . o . o

“Dean?” Sammy called out.

“Are you looking for your mommy?” A lady in an old western outfit asked him. She was part of the crew that was sitting around the covered wagon. 

“No, I’m looking for Dean.” She held out her hand.

“Why don’t you come sit with us and we will look for Dean together.” Sammy nodded and put his tiny hand in hers. She led him over to the wagon and sat on a barrel.

“So, what does Dean look like?”

“He is about this tall and he has short hair and he takes care of me.”

“Oh, he is your uncle, then?”

“Haha, no silly, he is my big brother!” Sitting in her lap, Sammy told everyone what Master and Sir looked like. The group kept their eyes peeled for the duo as the woman comforted Sammy. 

 

It was an older, wrinkled man who sat on the left side of the woman who spotted Dean and John first. The two were obviously distressed and stood out in the crowd. He tapped on Sammy’s shoulder and pointed. In a mad hustle to get down, elbows and knees went everywhere in the woman’s lap. 

“Dean! Dean!” he yelled as he scrambled down excited. Dean turned his head until he spotted Sammy. 

“Sammy!” He yelled as they ran to each other. They met in a big hug. Dean was yelling at Sam in his ear as he clutched his baby brother. “Don’t you ever do that to me again!” he finished. 

John stood awkwardly by the two. As they separated, Sammy looked at Sir and then at Master. Master nodded his consent and before he could move – John swept Sammy up into his arms. 

“We were so scared, baby boy.” He gave him a big kiss on the cheek. 

“Sirrrrrr!” Sam complained. John let him down. The lady who had helped him, had come up behind the family. She had been watching from the sidelines, a puzzled look on her face during the display.

“We found him wondering around looking for ya’ll. He is ok.” She squatted down next to Sam. “You must be the world’s best big brother. He was looking really hard for you. I honestly expected someone older.” Dean put his hand possessively on Sammy’s shoulder. “Be sure to stay safe, ok Sam?”

Sammy nodded. 

“I think it’s about time we go home.” John said. He herded his sons out of the tent. Dean was refusing to let go of Sammy. As they exited the tent, Dean spotted a collar and custom dog tag machine for the animals purchased at the rodeo.

“Hey, wait,” Dean said. He pulled Sammy over to the machine and put in three one dollar bills. Still holding Sammy’s hand, he used the other hand to put in his contact information. The machine spit out a black collar with a silver tag with the information

IF LOST, CALL DEAN  
936 867 5309

Dean secured the collar around his brother’s neck. Sammy blinked as if he didn’t quite know what to make of it.

“Does that fit OK?” Sammy nodded. 

“Ok, now we can go.”


	7. The Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: So, I tried to make this one a short one like 500-600 words. It didn’t turn out that way at all. I must have rewrote this thing about 6 times. Please let me know what you think of this chapter.
> 
> Oh, btw, I know that Sam technically doesn’t find out that monsters are real until Christmas when he is 8 – but for the sake of this story, Dean controls this knowledge and has already told him that monsters exist. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural. The layout of “When Sam turned ____, Dean was ____. ” belongs to yaoiigirl22’s “Beyond the Stars” at the bottom of chapter 3 over at Fanfiction.net. Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7868834/1/Beyond-The-Stars. Any other references to any other work is purely coincidental, subconscious, or related to the public prompt. I do not condone sex with minors or child abuse - this is a fanfic and therefore fiction. Please don't do anything like this in real life.

Learning to Submit

Chapter 7 The Ghost

When Sammy turned 6, Dean was 10. Sammy learned you should always listen on a hunt.

“So, they found him with his head through the TV?” Dean asked. “How do we know if it is a supernatural attack?” Dean and John were huddled around the hotel’s desk. The desk they sat at was littered with very current newspapers about local deaths. It wasn’t a coincidence that John had checked into the more expensive, nice hotel than the cheap motel down the road. Although to be fair, with the recent incidents, the hotel was dirty cheap and mostly vacant. While they discussed the case, Sammy sat on top of the bed silently reading a pictured chapter book for his first grade class. 

“Because it’s the third death this week labelled as mysterious.” John began to point to different articles scattered about the table. The articles focused on the hotel guests who had died. “This man choked in the pool’s doll house, this woman was strangled around the park’s swing set, and this boy went through a TV screen in the media room. Do you see a pattern?” 

“Besides a lot of vics? No.” The first man almost looked like he was wearing makeup. If that in itself wasn’t scary enough, the 50-something, overgrown man looked like a creeper sitting at a child’s tea party table. He had choked on a small, plastic tea cup. The 2nd victim, a woman in her 30’s, was not wearing anything unusual. But someone had wrapped the swing chain around her neck and hung her. The last victim was a teen boy who had gone head first through a TV. He, too, was completely unordinary. Different genders, different ages, different times of day, not related…what was the pattern?

“Well, Ace, lots of vics is generally a good clue, but something more specific will be a lot more helpful . . . They were all killed at areas where kids play. So if you had to guess, what are we looking for?” John asked him patiently. Dean scanned the pictures in the clippings again. Something that left its victims behind, didn’t eat the meat, was undiscriminatory and had a limited hunting area… 

“Ummm, a ghost?”

“That would be my guess, too. But it could also be some sort of cursed object. So, which do we rule out first?” 

“I dunno.” Dean admitted. 

“We always rule out a ghost first because they are easy to rule out. When we talk to the witnesses, we ask if there have been any flickering lights, cold spots, deaths….” He trailed off. “And we can always use an EMF to check if anything invisible has a magnetic field and there is always a quick computer search to check out if there have been any recent traumatic deaths. What do you say, Ace? Want to head out in about 15 minutes with me and we can check the computer and question witnesses?” 

“Yeah! I will go get Sammy ready right now.” 

“Dean, it’s your choice, but I really think Sam should stay here. You’ll be too busy to watch out for your brother,” John warned.

“But I always watch out for Sammy! Besides, he can just watch now and that way when he is 10, he’ll know all the basics.”

“Ok, ok. It’s your call. Go get the two of you ready. We are just going to be a normal family on vacation who is concerned with all of the accidents going on here, ok?”

o . o . o

When Dean grew up, he was going to be the best hunter ever and Sammy would be right there with him; he was sure of it. That meant that they had to start training hard now. So even as the small family rode the elevator, Dean was preparing Sammy.

“And you have salt, right?”

“Yessss.” Sam’s voice hissed. If he kept up that little attitude, Dean was going to adjust it real soon. So, what if he hadn’t finished reading the dang picture book? It was a picture book for first grade. It’s not like you learned anything in first grade.

“And what do you do if you see a ghost?” Dean continued as if it wasn’t bugging him. Which, really, it wasn’t. Dean was just getting them ready for their future and the other important things about life while Sammy was worried about homework.

“I throw salt on it and go get you or sir,” he grumbled. Dean made sure Sam saw the dirty look he threw at him. It said, ‘clean it up or face the consequences.’ Sam sighed and leaned into Dean. Dean knew this meant, ‘I’m sorry I’m being a little bitch, but you love me right?’ So, Dean did the only thing he could. He threw his arm around his brother as a ‘duh, I love you. All is forgiven.’ sign. And anyone who said that this was a chick flick moment was an idiot. 

When they stepped off of the elevator, John led the boys over to the lobby as he explained that the lower level staff can be the best sources of information in work places. When he spotted a young bell hop, he signaled him over with the hand that wasn’t on Dean’s shoulder. Sammy stood to the side of Dean, holding his hand. 

“Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” the bell boy asked politely. His name tag said Alvin.

“Yes, I was reading the local newspaper and well,” John rubbed his head, acting like he was nervous. “Is it safe to stay here?” Alvin’s mouth formed a frown. 

“I assure you, sir, we have never had any incidents here up until about 3 months ago. Even after that, it was just small things until this week. I feel for all of the families, I do, but this place isn’t cursed or anything – it’s just . . .” he trailed off, waving his hands to signal a finish. 

“What happened three months ago?” Dean broke into the conversation. As the bell boy started to answer, Sam shivered beside him. Letting go of his hand, Dean took off his jacket and placed it on his brother. Sammy gave him a shy smile in return. Dean turned his attention back to the older teen. 

“… She died shortly after. Mrs. Summers was real upset – I mean, what mom wouldn’t be? She almost closed down the hotel, but it is kinda the only thing she has left. I hope her luck turns around soon. If these accidents keep happening, she is going to have to close down the hotel.” The lights flickered, but Dean didn’t pay it any attention. It was a ghost! He was right! Heck, yeah, he was awesome. Now, he was going to bust the case wide open.

“That’s so sad, so uh, do you know where they buried her? Maybe we can go place some flowers on her grave, Dad?” Dean said with obvious false sympathy. John was looking at the EMF. He frowned. 

The bell boy didn’t seem to notice. “Mrs. Summers keeps Margaret’s ashes up on the mantle over there.” He pointed to a small black urn above the fireplace. Dean moved to look at the urn, but John’s hand clamped down on his shoulder. He looked up. 

“Dean, where is your brother?” His dad didn’t sound panicked, but his eyes were widened slightly and his mouth was parted. Dead didn’t want to turn around. Sammy had just been at his side; he had just given the kid his jacket for Christ’s sake. When he turned around, the kid needed to be right there behind him, looking up at him with a cheeky grin on his face. He slowly turned his head to look; Sammy was gone. 

“Sam? SAMMY?” Dean began to scream as he looked about the room. Son of bitch! He should have been holding the kids hand. Hell, the kid should have remained up in the room with a big salt line protecting him. Alvin looked more concerned with Dean yelling than Sam missing. He opened his mouth to say something, but Dean basically shouted at the help before he could, “Did you see where he went?”

“The little boy?” No, Dumbo, the imaginary little girl he walked around with, Dean thought viciously. If Sam had just wandered off again because he was bored or because he wanted to do homework, Dean was going to tie the kid up on a leash and lose the key. But he knew that wasn’t the case. By now, his baby brother knew better than to wander off. Not seeing Sammy, he turned helplessly to his dad who was – still looking at the EMF?

John still hadn’t moved from his original spot. Suddenly, it was like someone had flipped a switch. He aggressively grabbed the front of the bell boy’s shirt and yanked him up to meet John’s eyes. Dean didn’t think his dad could look scarier. 

“I am going to ask you one question, and you are going to answer me honestly,” he all but growled. “Did the little girl leave anything behind like hair? Teeth? Any body parts at all?” Alvin looked like he was about to scream bloody murder. Maybe if Dean had a clear head, he could understand why a stranger asking about a dead child’s body parts was traumatizing, but right now, he just wanted his baby back. 

“No, I swear; I don’t think so. Please don’t hurt me. Oh, God.” Alvin babbled. John shook him again. Dean knew the father in him was freaking out, just like the big brother in him was.

“What did she leave behind?”

“Besides her doll? Nothing! Nothing!” 

“The doll, where it is? Where is it?”

“Under the oak tree by the pond out back. There! Do you see that tree?” He pointed out the window. “There!” The father son duo took off even before Alvin had finished speaking, leaving a scared bellboy staring after them. It would be just their luck if he called the police on them.

o . o . o

As they ran to the back of the property, they passed the empty pool, then the vacant car lot, then the desolate playground, then uninhabited pond – no, there was someone in the pond. A little six year old boy in a dead man’s float. Oh, God. Oh, God. Move. Please, please move. Dean had abandoned the idea of going to the tree to get the doll. He was stuck at the pond’s edge. Sammy wasn’t moving and he couldn’t check. Oh, God.

John didn’t have such problems. He was in the pond, scooping up his baby before anyone could even blink. Dean stood stoically as his dad placed his baby on the ground and ripped open his shirt. He couldn’t move. What if they were too late? His dad had placed the palm of his hands on Sam’s chest and began to press down and then release rapidly. The chest wiggled as John made sure to compress at least two inches. Dean thought he was going to crack a rib. He finally noticed his dad’s mouth moving. 

“Dean? Are you listening to me? Dean?” It sounded so far away, like the voice couldn’t possibly be wanting him to do anything. It was just there. 

“DEAN, SAM WILL DIE IF YOU DON’T FOLLOW MY ORDERS. I NEED YOU TO TILT HIS HEAD BACK. NOW, DEAN.” Dean knelt next to Sam. Dean pulled Sam’s head away from his body. Dean tilted his head back. Dean kept his chin up. Dean looked at his brother. Oh, God.

“Ok, Dean, I need you to breathe on the count of three. One. Two. Three.” Dean sucked in a deep breath and blew it into Sam’s lungs. “One more time, Dean.” Again. He did it again. Why wasn’t Sammy breathing? John was already counting another 30 compressions. Down. Up. Down. Up. 

“Dean, 2 breaths, NOW.” Inhale through mouth, exhale into Sam’s. Inhale through mouth, exhale into Sam’s. John started compressions again. About 5 compressions in, Sam started to cough up nasty pond water.

“Hey, champ. How are you doing? Don’t you know pond water is bad for you?” John asked gently. His hands shook as he gently wiped Sammy’s wet hair out of his face. Next to his breathing brother, Dean started to cry. Silent tears tracked down his face and his shoulders shook with the need to wail. It’s over. He’s OK. Thank God. Thank God.

God, he couldn’t just sit here and be a big baby about this. Only girls and Sammy were allowed to cry. Righteous fury washed over his features. It created a chill in his tummy that numbed the relief and worry that had eaten a hole through his stomach. That ghost was dead. He was going to rip its face off. Dean marched over to the oak and began to dig in front of it with his hands. He didn’t notice the spirit of the 8 year old Margaret standing right behind him.

o . o . o

“What happened three months ago?” Master asked Alvin.

“Well, the owner’s daughter,” the bellboy started to answer. Sam felt a sudden chill like he had walked through ice fog even though he hadn’t moved. He couldn’t help the shiver that ran throughout his body. 

Alvin continued, “…was complaining about bullies and not having any friends. She began to hang out with a group of girls that were way older than her. They seemed a little rough around the edges. There was an accident in one of the hotel rooms – a fire. She got badly burned.” He felt Master let go of his hand and shortly after felt his brother’s jacket on top of his shoulders. It was nice when Master treated him like this, like he was precious. He didn’t get that a lot, but it was starting to happen more and more. Sam couldn’t help but give his brother a smile back as he listened to the last of Alvin’s story.

“… She died shortly after. Mrs. Summers was real upset – I mean, what mom wouldn’t be? She almost closed down the hotel, but it is kinda the only thing she has left. I hope her luck turns around soon. If these accidents keep happening, she is going to have to close down the hotel.” 

The lights went out. The next thing Sam knew he was lying on his back outside. Where did everyone go? How long had he been out? He blinked and sat up. He was over by a pond with tons of pines and an old oak tree. He spotted the hotel about a football field’s distance away. He was going to be in so much trouble.

“Master?” he called. A laugh came up from behind him. Sammy turned. There was a little girl about 8 years old. She had curly shoulder length brown hair and a knee length dress on. She seemed a little chubby around the edges. And maybe … see-through? 

“You have a master?” she asked. “That’s weird. My name’s Margaret and I want to play a game. Will you play with me?” Sam cringed. Sir would get mad if he heard Sammy referring to his older brother as Master out in public.

“Ummm, maybe later, ok? Right now I have to find Dean or I’m going to be in really big trouble.” Sam stuck his hand in his jacket pocket for the salt he had stuffed in there earlier. The girl gave him big puppy dog eyes. He remembered Master’s command to throw the salt and run away. But it was just a little girl. He didn’t want to hurt her. It wasn’t like she could hurt anyone anyway. He got up and dusted himself off. “Just wait here a minute, OK?”

Sam started to head back to the hotel. Master had been so nice today; he didn’t want to piss him off. He would go get Master and Sir; let them know he had found the ghost. Maybe he could play with her before they helped her find peace. All it seemed she wanted was a friend and Sammy could relate to that. The little girl was all of a sudden in front of him. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go swimming?”

“I can’t right now, but I’ll be right back. We’ll go swimming then, I promise.” 

“You are just like the others; you are going to go off and make fun of me. Well, I’m not going to let you!” Sam was suddenly in the water. He flailed his arms to stay afloat, but something was pulling him down. He needed air. He needed Master or Sir to come save him. His vision dulled and everything went black.

o . o . o

The next time Sammy came to, Master and Sir were there leaning over him. He coughed weakly. God, his mouth tasted bad and his chest hurt badly. What had happened?

“Hey, champ. How are you doing? Don’t you know pond water is bad for you?” Sir asked gently. He felt shaking hands on his forehead. His dad was freaked out. What the? Sam looked to Master for clues as to what had happened, but Master wasn’t in his line of sight. He tried to call for him, but nothing came out. So Sam turned his head awkwardly to see behind him. His brother was digging at the base of a tree. Okay? That was not normal. Margaret flickered into view; she looked mad. 

Sam opened his mouth to warn Master, but then – BANG! Sammy jumped. His full attention was on the gun next to him. Sir looked pissed still holding a smoking handgun. He leaned over Sammy, like he was protecting him as he kept a sharp look out.

It turned out, Sammy wasn’t the only one who had jumped. Master now had his back up against the tree, wielding a short iron pocketknife in front of him. 

“Hurry up, son. Burn it,” his dad called darkly. He cocked his gun again and looked out for the psychotic little ghost girl. She wasn’t getting either of his boys. Master turned around and began digging again. Soon he found a doll, threw salt on it and lit it on fire with a lighter from his pocket. As the doll burned, they could feel the spirit moving onwards. 

“And this was supposed to be an easy hunt,” Sir laughed as he fell back on his butt. Sam agreed with his dad; he felt exhausted. Who knew that all ghosts were crazy? Next time, Sammy promised he would use the salt. Master slowly walked over to the duo and looked down at Sammy lying on the ground. Sammy thought that Master looked guilty, but what did have to be guilty of? He broke the rules by not listening earlier. His older brother crouched down next to Sam who was still lying in the same position as earlier. He scooped up the top of Sammy’s body in his arms and just held him for a minute. 

“I’m sorry. This is all my fault,” Master whispered into his ear as he kissed the top of his wet head. Sam’s eyes widened. So that’s why he wasn’t mad; Master blamed himself. Sammy vowed that while he wasn’t going to tell his brother he messed up, but he knew he was always going to listen to Master on a hunt from now on. Sitting by Sir and curled up in Master, Sam slowly shut his eyes.

o . o . o

Dean and John stayed lost in their thoughts at the pond’s edge long after Sam had fallen asleep.

“Ready to head back to the hotel and see if we still have a room, Ace?” Dad asked out of the blue. Yeah, if they still had their hotel room, it would be a miracle. Dean nodded his consent. He scooped the rest of his baby brother up into his arms, but couldn’t get up. Maybe Sammy wasn’t such a baby anymore? 

“Dad, can you carry him?” John gave a soft smile when his youngest was safely in his arms. A large hand nearly covered Sam’s small back. Yeah, Dean could understand John’s need to touch Sam, to make sure he was still breathing. The two headed back to the hotel room. 

When they got to the hotel, there wasn’t any cop cars or notes on the door telling them to vacate. However, Alvin wouldn’t even stay in the same room as them. That suited Dean fine. When Sammy was missing, that shit head was too concerned with Dean yelling – why would Dean even want him to be in the same room as Sammy? 

After they got to the hotel room, Dean and John gave Sam a quick bath while he was still counting z’s. After Dean was all squeaky clean as well, he joined Sammy on their bed and John finally got his shower. As Dean looked over at the kid, he couldn’t bring himself to tie Sammy’s arms to the headboard like normal. 

“It’s gonna be ok, baby.” The words were said more for Dean than Sam. He raked his hand through Sammy’s wet hair. Sammy’s eyes blinked awake. 

“Hey,” his baby brother’s raspy voice whispered. His throat must be so raw. Dean felt guilty again. A good master takes care of their pets when they are sick.

“Don’t talk, yet,” Dean kissed Sammy’s head and then picked up the phone on the nightstand next to the bed. “Yes, I would like to order room service. One bowl of chicken noodle soup? Thanks.” Dad might be mad at the extra cost, but he didn’t think he would be too mad. 

He got up and went to the bathroom to get a glass of water. He was so relieved to hear his brother’s voice again. Maybe this would help it until the soup came up. He crawled back onto the bed next to Sam with the glass of water. 

“Do you think you can sit up?” Dean asked. Sam sat up like it was no problem, but he was eyeing the glass of water like he was a man walking around a desert. He held the glass of water out of reach and watched his brother visibly deflate. Well, that felt like a kick in the teeth.

“Hey, hey. I’m not keeping this from you. You can have it all. You just need to promise me that you will sip it really, really slow, ok?” Sam quickly nodded and Dean handed him the full glass of water. True to his word, Sam slowly sipped on the water until it was all gone. Dean took the glass and set it on the night stand. He then pulled Sam into his lap on the bed and began to hum him the only lullaby he knew. “Hey Jude” still floated in the air when Dad got out of his shower. 

A waiter knock on the door shortly after. John pulled the cart into the room and gave Dean a look but said nothing. Dean accepted the bowl of soup and tried to spoon feed Sam. 

“Master, I can do it,” he complained in that bitchy, whiny voice of his. It was still slightly raspier than normal. It would probably be that way for a couple of days at least. It was a good reminder though, Dean thought. Sam was still little, he needed to make sure that he was safe first before going after the bad monster.

“But I am going to do it,” he finished the argument before it even started. Dean fed Sam the soup. Later, they cuddled together at the head of the bed as the TV played old cartoons. John would eventually turn off the TV with one last loving look at his boys. They really were good kids. Sam was curled up under Dean’s arm, lying with his head on Dean’s chest. Dean was shielding his baby brother from the rest of the world with his arm. And their legs laid completely entangled.


	8. The Skirt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: As of this chapter, Dean is starting to go through puberty. Sexual content will be in the following chapters. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural. The layout of “When Sam turned ____, Dean was ____. ” belongs to yaoiigirl22’s “Beyond the Stars” at the bottom of chapter 3 over at Fanfiction.net. Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7868834/1/Beyond-The-Stars. The last line of this chapter is from Supernatural episode 9x01 and as such, belongs to Supernatural and its owners. The shirts mentioned in this chapter are based off of two Walmart T-Shirts:  
> 1\. http://www.walmart.com/ip/Danskin-Now-Girls-Graphic-Poly-Tee/36921319  
> 2\. http://www.walmart.com/ip/FAST-TRACK-Cafepress-Girl-s-Welcome-Home-Graphic-Tee/33440029
> 
> Any other references to any other work is purely coincidental, subconscious, or related to the public prompt. I do not condone sex with minors or child abuse - this is a fanfic and therefore fiction. Please don't do anything like this in real life.

Learning to Submit

Chapter 8 The Skirt

When Sammy turned 7, Dean was 11. Dean learned girls (and Sam) might not be so icky.

She is kinda hot, Dean thought as he looked at the small blonde girl on the other side of the classroom. The blonde, Sarah, was 12. She was sophisticated and mature – you could tell by the fact that she actually had boobs unlike most of the other girls in class. Unfortunately, they were hidden behind the t-shirt and jeans she was sporting. Dean found himself wishing that she had dressed in the same outfit as Alexandra had – a short skirt and tank top, the kind of outfit that had gotten her in trouble with the teacher. If Sarah had worn the outfit, Dean bet you would have been able to really see her boobs.

Boobs. What would it be like to touch them? They were so bouncy looking. Dean didn’t know what his girlfriend would look like, but she would have big boobs and all of the boys in his class would be jealous. Big boobs, big eyes, thin arms and really bendy. 

He could already imagine their first date. They would go out to the arcade. He would win big at the stupid arcade games and get enough tickets to buy her a stuffed animal and cotton candy. Then they would head over to a dollar theater and see a movie that was about to come out on video; the theater would be empty. He would pay attention to maybe the first five or so minutes of the movie and then causally put his arm around her shoulders. She would lean into him so that her boobs where touching his chest. Then slowly, he would move his hand down to grope those boobs. And by the end of the movie, they would be completely making out.

He would twirl his fingers in her brown hair and look into her puppy dog eyes. He could picture her now – she would look like Sam – errr, wait, no she would look like Sarah. It was too late. An older, female version of Sam had taken the place of his dream date and this Samantha looked awesome. Dean couldn’t focus the rest of the day on school.

o . o . o

“Sammy!” Master called on his way through the door to their motel room. He was carrying a large plastic Goodwill bag. Sam looked up from doing his second grade science homework – plant cycles.

“Hey, you took forever to come home. Whatcha got? Is it for me? Can I see?” Sam launched into a 100 words a minute as Master approached the desk Sam was sitting at. Master looked excited. Sammy just knew something awesome was about to happen. 

“Yep, these are all for you. I want you to go put them on and then we are going to go to the arcade and play, ok?” The arcade? Sam couldn’t grab the bag fast enough. Lots of times, Master left him at home with a list of chores or tied up while he went to the arcade with his friends. Maybe if Master let him come this time, he could see what an awesome arcade gamer Sammy was and they would go all the time.

Once inside the bathroom, Sammy opened up the bag and pulled out a 2 pink shirts, short black skirt and a long brown wig. One of the pink shirts said, “Welcome Home, Daddy. Your Princess Missed You.” The other said, “Strong Like a Girl.” Sammy felt a heat rush into his cheeks. He wasn’t a girl, no matter how often Master teased him about behaving like one. 

Sammy threw the bathroom door open angrily. “What is this?” he bitched as he waived one of the shirts in the air. Dean was now sitting on one of the beds. He looked like he had been waiting for this type of reaction.

“Drop the attitude or drop your pants.” Dean replied just as sharply. “They’re clothes; clothes that you should be wearing…” he trailed off looking specifically at the boy clothes Sam was wearing. 

Sam threw the shirt on the ground and kicked it. Before he could open his mouth to retort his owner’s comment, Sam was pinned to the ground. 

“Let me go. I’m not a stupid girl. Let me go right now!” he yelled as he struggled to roll Master over. Try as he might, the younger child was unable to get any sort of advantage over his older sibling. Master had been training with Sir for just about a year now; he was easily able to pin the 7 year old’s hands in one hand and pin his legs by body weight. When the older boy had enough, he yelled right into his pet’s ear, “Be still!” 

Sam instantly stopped. 

Master continued. “You are going to lean over the bed and count out 10 spankings. Then you are going to kiss that shirt you just kicked, go into the bathroom and put it on. If you don’t . . .” 

Sam bottom lip quivered and Master let him up. Refusing to look at Master on his way to the bed, Sam bent over the bed and put his weight on his forearms. 

“No, Sam. Strip first.” There was a pause. Sammy still didn’t look at his owner. “Everything.” 

As soon as Sam was butt-naked and back in position -

WHACK! “One. I am sorry I didn’t listen.”  
SLAP! “Two. ’m sorry I didn’t listen.” 

When Sam got to ten, snot was running down the front of his face. Master handed him his dirty shirt and Sammy wiped his face off on it. Then, the preteen handed him the shirt he had kicked. 

“Kiss it,” he commanded. Sam looked at the “Welcome Home Daddy, Your Princess Missed You” shirt. Then he raised his eyes to look Dean straight in the face and brought the shirt to his lips. 

“Put it on.” Sam did as he was instructed. A new wave of tears leaked from his eyes. This was humiliating. None of the other boys in his class had to do this. 

“Go put on the skirt.” Still saying nothing, Sam all but stomped over to the bathroom to go put on a damn girly skirt. “Don’t forget the wig!”

o . o . o

When Sam was in the bathroom, John entered the motel room carrying a big pizza box.

“You boys hungry?” John asked. 

“I am starving, but Samantha over there might be watching her figure.” Dean laughed as he all but grabbed the box out of John’s hand. “You only got one box? Dad, I could eat one whole pizza by myself.” 

“Well, leave enough to share with the rest of us. Where is your brother?” Dean laughed again. 

“I don’t have a brother; I have a little sister, right Samantha?” he called over to the bathroom. The bathroom door creaked open and John gasped. Standing in the bathroom doorway, was a little girl with straight shoulder length brown hair, adorable large eyes and a shirt that said, “Welcome Home Daddy, Your Princess Missed You.” Sammy really did look like a Samantha. If Dean had a little sister, he would have had to beat boys off with a stick when she got older. She would have been drop dead gorgeous. Maybe adult boy Sam would be gorgeous too? 

“Wow, Sam – you look just like a – haha, can Samantha sit on Daddy’s lap?” John asked Dean. Dean didn’t think about it for a second; he nodded. 

“I always wanted a little girl.” John said as he opened his arms. Dean knew that Sammy knew what he was supposed to do, but instead the little twerk shuffled forward with a big pouty frown on his face. An occasional tear would leak out of an eye. When he got within reach, John sat the tiny cross-dresser on his lap. 

“I always knew you would be a really pretty girl, Samantha. With those long eye lashes and that pretty mouth.” Dean said right beside Sam.

“Don’t forget those cheek bones – she must get them from Mary.” John petted Samantha’s back.

“Do you think we should add make-up next time, Dad?” Dean’s hand traced the outline of Samantha’s face. It was baby skin soft. 

“Christo.” Sam mumbled. Dean froze. Had he hurt his brother earlier with the spanking? He didn’t think he hit him that hard, but Sammy hadn’t stopped crying. 

“Sam? You okay?” Sammy said nothing and hid his face into the crook of Dean’s shoulder as he slid off of John’s lap. “Sam, answer me.” 

“Do you want a baby sister instead of me? Am I not good enough? Or pretty enough? Do you not want me?” he began to cry harder. Where was this coming from? Not good enough? Sam was the most important person in his life. Of course he wanted Sam.

“No, no baby. I just wanted to see you all pretty. I don’t want a sister – they are only good for playing with dolls and doing their hair. Brothers are so much better. Sammy, you are the only one for me.” Dean cuddled his little brother as he ripped the wig off. 

“Then why do you want me to wear this? I’m not a girl. I’m not a girl.” Sam did the same thing he did when he was younger; he wiped his snotty nose all over Dean’s shirt as he cried into it.

“Well, you certainly cry like a little girl.” Dean cringed as Sammy cried louder. Ok, so it wasn’t the best thing to say – even it was true. 

“You don’t have to wear the stupid clothes, Sam. But you gotta believe me – there ain’t no me, if there ain’t no you.” Dean looked at his dad as he held Sammy. What had he done wrong?


	9. The Wallet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: In this chapter there is non-platonic kissing and groping between two underage brothers.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural. The layout of “When Sam turned ____, Dean was ____. ” belongs to yaoiigirl22’s “Beyond the Stars” at the bottom of chapter 3 over at Fanfiction.net. Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7868834/1/Beyond-The-Stars. Any other references to any other work is purely coincidental, subconscious, or related to the public prompt. I do not condone sex with minors or child abuse - this is a fanfic and therefore fiction. Please don't do anything like this in real life.

Learning to Submit

Chapter 9 The Wallet

When Sammy turned 8, Dean was 12. Sammy learned how to kiss properly.

“Hey, have you seen my wallet?” Dean asked Sam. He had been tearing the motel room apart for a better part of an hour and he was going to be late for his date with Jessica if they didn’t leave in the next fifteen minutes. 

Sam turned from the TV to look straight into his eyes, put his mouth in a pencil straight line, and spoke both low and slow.

“No, I haven’t. Where did you have it last?” Sammy’s eyes dropped slightly to stare at Dean’s chest. Well, that clenched it; the little bitch was lying. He had watched Dean fret about for an hour and hadn’t said anything – that just screamed discipline. 

“Stand up, Sam.” Like the good little slave he was, Sam obediently stood. Dean pointed at the wall next to the bed. He moved to the indicated wall with a slightly guilty look. Oh yeah, Sam had done something bad.

“Where is it?” Dean demanded. 

“I dunno. Could it be in the ‘Pala with Sir?” Dean almost snorted at his little brother’s response. His punishment was going to be long and painful; he would make sure of it. 

“We are going to play a little game. Hold out your arms. Now, you are going to hold these books as far out from your chest as possible until I find my wallet.” Dean walked over and stuck four thick school textbooks from their backpacks onto Sam’s outstretched hands. Before 3 minutes were up, Dean was sure he was going to have his wallet. Dean set to work on searching spots in the room where Sam had frequented. He turned the couch in front of the TV inside out; he lifted up a side of the mattress to check underneath it; he even looked in the pantry where Sam hid his snacks.

He slowly counted the minutes in his head. The younger boy was lasting longer than he thought, but about 4 and a half minutes in, he gave up.

“Master?” came a pained whisper as Dean dumped out Sam’s backpack. 

“You figure out where my wallet is, yet?”

“I have it. Can I put the books down please?” Dean looked over to his slave. His arms were visibly shaking. 

“Where is it?” 

“In my back pocket.” Sam moved to lower the books.

“Stop! I didn’t tell you that your punishment was over, did I? Why did you hide it?” he asked as he moved to stand in front of Sam, but he didn’t reach for the wallet or touch his brother.

“Please, it’s heavy and it hurts.”

“Why, Sam?” 

“I dunno. It’s stupid.” Sam looked away embarrassed. 

“Well, either you don’t know or it’s stupid. Which one is it?” Sam threw on a bitch face, but still didn’t answer. Dean raised his eyebrows to show he was waiting and interested in the answer. Screw his date. This wasn’t going to go unpunished at all – but he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do, a whipping seemed too light a punishment for stealing from him.

“I don’t want you to leave me all alone at stupid Plucky’s while you go off with some stupid girl. Master, it hurts, please, can I put the books down now?” Sam’s arms looked like they were going to give in soon. 

“No, you can’t put them down and if you drop them, you’ll regret it. Turn around.” As soon as Sam faced the wall, Dean dug his hand into the back of Sam’s pants to pull out an old thin, black wallet. Dean counted the twenty-something dollars he had in broken change. It was all there, along with his Bikini Inspector ID card. He smiled as an idea came to him.

Dean slowly brought both hands to Sam’s butt and dragged them down the back of his legs to his feet. 

“Master?” the younger boy jerked.

“Stay still. You don’t want to see what happens if you drop those books…” he warned as he placed his hands on the inside of Sam’s legs and brought his hands up to his crotch. Then Dean moved forward so that Sam’s back was touching his chest; his arms caressing Sam’s tummy. Finally, he brought his hands to the button on his slave’s jeans and began to unbutton it.

“What are you doing?”

“It is not your place to question me. I get to do what I want and what I want to know is if the little thief took anything else that didn’t belong to him. So, spread ‘em.”

o . o . o

“It is not your place to question me. I get to do what I want and what I want to know is if the little thief took anything else that didn’t belong to him. So, spread ‘em.” The strain on his hands was slowly burning up his arms. It felt like the flames were just at his shoulders. Master pulled his pants and underwear all the way down. He felt him lift up one foot to remove the clothes and then the other.

As soon as the jeans and underwear were thrown to the side, the presence behind Sam disappeared. Sam just stood, facing the wall. Since he didn’t want to get in even more trouble, he slowly counted in his head. He felt foolish facing the wall without any pants on, holding four large textbooks. God, Master, please hurry up, I can’t hold these for much longer, Sam thought. The books were shaking so violently now, Sam was surprised that the top one hadn’t flown off.

A blindfold covering his eyes interrupted his thoughts. Suddenly without vision, everything felt more . . . just more. The room felt colder to Sam. He could feel the cold breeze from the motel fan mix with Master’s hot breath on the back of his neck. The books felt heavier and the pain in his arms felt sharper. Even if Sam was a little scared, there was a sort of anticipation of what was going to happen building up in his gut. He liked it when he was the center of Dean’s world and not some stupid girl.

“Put the books down.” Sam did as requested as soon as he could. When his arms were down by his side, a painful tingle replaced the burning strain. SMACK! A hard hand slapped him right across his rear. 

“I didn’t say you could put your hands down. Assume the same position.” Great, just freaking great; he was never going to be able to feel his arms again. At least this time, he wasn’t holding fifty bazillion pounds. Master’s hands slowly inched up his shirt until he had pulled it all off. He felt even more awkward than before, standing there butt-naked with his arms out like a freakin’ zombie.

Then he felt warm hands running all over his body – up and down his calves, across his spine, around his torso. Suddenly, he felt a hand run along his butt crack. It was so unexpected that Sam couldn’t stop himself from spinning around and shielding his behind. 

“Master?” he heard a small chuckle in response.

A hand grabbed the front of his collar and pulled his head next to his dom’s mouth. 

“If you can’t say still,” he whispered, “I am just going to have to tie you up.” A small weight connected to the front ring in his collar – a leash? It must have been because he was being led a few feet away from where he originally stood. Still blindfolded, he guessed that they were now standing next to the bed. 

“Kneel, Sam.” Very carefully, he bent down so that his knees touched the ground. He felt Master take his arms and move them behind his body. Then he stringed them together so that he couldn’t move them and tied the last of the rope to his ankles. Finally, he tugged and tied the leash tightly. Sam knew he wasn’t going to be going anywhere for a while.

“I get to touch every part of you, right? I own those pretty eyes and that little butt and even these tiny balls.” His master’s voice rang out as he lightly held Sam’s privates. 

“So, you didn’t want me to go hang out with Jessica? Why?” 

“Because then I get left all alone at Plucky’s. I can do everything she can.”

“That’s not true. She can kiss.”

“I can kiss. We kiss all the time.”

“Oh, yeah? Well kiss me.” Sam couldn’t tell exactly where Master’s mouth was, but he leaned over in the general vicinity of Master and pressed his lips over some area of skin. 

“That is not how you kiss, stupid. This is how you kiss.” Master’s mouth was on his. He felt a wet tongue licking along his bottom lip. Sam opened his mouth to ask what he was doing, but all he got was a mouthful of tongue. He was everywhere – his tongue was on top of Master’s, it was below it, it was being sucked into Master’s mouth. While their tongues awkwardly played, Master began to lightly stroke Sam’s boyhood. He felt hot, but good. His penis hardened. What was happening? 

Sam had to break away – “Master, please.” He wasn’t sure why he was begging or what he was asking for, but Master had to have the answers, to know what to do next just like he always did. Master’s mouth slowly began to move down his neck. He was nipping, sucking and licking a nice pattern. When he reached one spot right above the collar bone, Sam couldn’t stop himself from grasping and throwing his head back to give Master even more access. But Master just stopped. 

He disappeared for a minute. When he returned, he pushed a ball gag into Sam’s mouth and a small rope or thick string was tied around the base of Sam’s cock. 

“Well, I have to get going or I’m gonna be late. You can stay here and think about the punishment you are going to get when I get back for lying, stealing and making me late. I will try to be back in a few hours.” Finally, some fuzzy object was placed around Sam’s ears. He figured it was Master’s old ear muffs.

He thought he heard the door close, but everything was so muffled; it honestly could have just been Sam’s imagination. Was Master really going to leave him here like this? He couldn’t see; he could barely hear and all he could feel was a tingling in his arms and an uncomfortable pressure in his pelvis. Sam tried to think about the amazing kiss he had just gotten, but he was more worried about what waited for him when Master got back.


	10. The Blow Job and the Accident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for 1st story in this chapter: In this chapter there is a blow job and hand job in public between two underage brothers.  
> WARNING for 2nd story in this chapter: In this chapter there is kissing between two underage brothers.  
> WARNING for next chapter: Next chapter contains full sex between two brothers. I will post this note again above the next chapter. Please skip it if you don’t want to read it. Thanks.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural. The layout of “When Sam turned ____, Dean was ____. ” belongs to yaoiigirl22’s “Beyond the Stars” at the bottom of chapter 3 over at Fanfiction.net. Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7868834/1/Beyond-The-Stars. Any other references to any other work is purely coincidental, subconscious, or related to the public prompt. I do not condone sex with minors or child abuse - this is a fanfic and therefore fiction. Please don't do anything like this in real life.
> 
> Note: So sorry about the wait for this chapter. I have been super busy, but that is not really an excuse. As somewhat of an apology, this chapter is a little different. I have posted my original chapter – basically a blow job scene (Part A) and then a chapter without sex stuff (Part B). They are completely unrelated instances in this world. Special Thanks to Zhang for the idea behind this Part B. As always, please forgive any grammar and spelling mistakes – this had a very quick proof read.

Learning to Submit

Chapter 10 Part A The Blow Job

Sammy knew the rules of the game they were playing. He wasn’t allowed to look at anyone in the eye nor speak to anyone save for Master. It had been awkward earlier when they had been in the diner. Sam could remember the maternal waitress asking him questions, while his owner kept answering for him. Eventually, he tucked his face into the crook of Master’s arm. He could feel the other boy smiling at his antics, trying not to break the rules of the game, while the waitress struggled to figure out what was going on.

Sometime during dinner, Master had commanded him go into the bathroom and remove his underwear. Even though it felt all kinds of naughty, Sam did as he was told. During the rest of the meal, he could feel his dick harden as it pressed into the rough material of his jeans. God, he bet that everyone in that diner would notice his erection when he got up from dinner. Getting hard seemed to be happening more and more – and for no apparent reason either! His brother didn’t help matters. He was always touching him or whispering things to him like what he did with a girl and what he was going to do to him.

“You ready for your reward for being a good boy?” his brother asked as they exited the restaurant. He patted Sam on the butt and Sam felt his cock twitch. It reminded him of the light spanking and heavy make-out session his master had given him the day before.

Still being as submissive as possible, Sammy slipped his hand into his brother’s and nodded as he looked down at the ground. 

“Awesome! Then we going to go see a movie.” His owner smirked at something Sam didn’t catch. Sam lit up. He had been wanting to see Batman Returns for a while. They began to track across the small town to the dollar theater.

o . o . o

At the theater, Dean purchased two tickets for Batman Returns. As soon as the words left his mouth, Sam’s eyes sparkled. Batman was his favorite superhero. Too bad they weren’t going to go see it.

After they gave their tickets to the doorman, Dean pulled Sam into the Dracula movie room. It was rated R – there was no way the cashier would have sold them the correct tickets. But this was the perfect movie for Dean’s plan. It had been playing for forever so he thought that no one would be in the theater. If Sam paid attention to the film, he would get scared and cling to him that night. And if he didn’t pay attention to the film, well . . . Dean would even happier with what Sam would be paying attention to. 

As Dean dragged Sam to the very back of the theater, he spotted an older couple in the second row. Shit. They would have to be really quiet.

“Come on. Right here.” He pointed to the farthest seat from the aisle in the very back. Sam shot him an odd look that screamed why not sit in the middle. Oh, Sam, if you only knew what was going to happen. 

As soon as the movie started, Dean leaned over and began to whisper into Sammy’s ear. “I want you to touch yourself.” 

Sam lightly touched his hand to his belly, watching Dean watch him. He hardened at the sight of his younger brother looking for his approval. This is what Dean wanted – for Sam to look at him like he was the center of his whole world.

Dean smiled at Sam’s continuous innocent touches. He raised the armrest and put his hand down the front of Sam’s pants. It was arousing thinking about his brother not wearing any underwear just because he said so. Moving his hand around his little brother’s cock, Dean began to stroke his little brother. 

“Master?” Sam questioned. Dean knew it was because they had always been so careful as not to do anything in public – no Master’s, no touching, no punishments . . . but what’s the fun in that?

“Keep touching yourself,” he commanded in Sam’s ear. His hand went up to grab his throat and bring it down gently as Dracula made yet another appearance on the screen. 

“Tell me how it feels to have my hand around your cock.”

“It feels good. Different,” Sam blushed. His hands had abandoned their innocent exploration and now were clenching the armrest. His breathing quickened. 

“More.”

“I don’t know. God, Master, I am so close, but I need – I need … please.” Sam’s legs clamped around together as he tried to hump the hand around his penis. The hand stopped.

“No, tonight you are going to keep your legs wide open for me. So, I get to do whatever I want and you get to just take it.” Sam re-opened his legs and Dean rewarded him by unbuttoning his pants and pulling his cock out so he had better access to lightly cup his balls, slide a finger between the two pieces of flesh and softly tug on one then the other.

“Oh, dear God, please yes.” Sam was getting louder. Dean quickly leaned over and stuffed his tongue down his brother’s throat – effectively swallowing his cries. Dean loved the tingling feeling that accompanied kissing his slave. He wanted to press his lips into those and taste Sam’s unique taste every day for the rest of his life.

When Dean finally pulled away, he whispered against Sam’s mouth, “Do you like what I am doing to you?”

“I like it,” Sam stammered. Even in the dark theater, Dean could see Sam’s face was beet red.

“What do you like me doing to you?”

“This . . . “At Dean’s look and loosening grip, Sam quickly revised his statement, “I like your hand on my thing.”

“On what thing? This thing?” Dean stuck Sam’s finger in his mouth, licked it and released it. “Or this thing?” His other hand tightly pulled Sam’s hair, who moaned loudly. Both boys froze to look at the couple sitting in the second row, but they were oblivious to what was going on behind them. Dean made a mental note to pull Sam’s hair more. 

“No, on my penis,” Sam all but breathed. Dean couldn’t tell if it was because of embarrassment or because he was worried about someone overhearing. Dean smiled and with a few sharp strokes with a light twist at the end, finished the nine year old off. When Sam came, he was silent. His back arched and his mouth was wide open in an “O” position. Suddenly, Dean wanted that “O” around his cock.

“You are going to return the favor. Now, get on your hands and knees in front of me and wait like a good boy.” Sam crawled onto the floor right in front of Dean who opened his legs as wide as possible. Dean felt a rush of power with Sam staring up at him, waiting to service him. God, he looked completely debauched. Dean could barely see his brother but he could tell that his jeans were still undone and his cock was still hanging out. Soon, he knew that those precious pink links would be slightly swollen and there would be a healthy pink glow on his cheeks for the rest of the night. After a minute of taking in the sight, Dean opened his fly and gestured to Sam to start. He began to slightly stroke his penis.

“No, I want you to use your mouth.”

“You want me to put my mouth where?” the younger boy asked incredulously. 

Dean huffed. “Jeez, haven’t you seen any good skin mags? The girl always puts her mouth on the guy’s dick . . . Just do it.” Sammy didn’t move for a second, like he was debating between listening to the order or putting up a fight. Finally, Dean felt a hot, wet mouth along his cock. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t feel as good as the last girl who did this to him; it was obvious this was Sam’s first time and he had no clue what to do. Dean winced at the sharp feeling of teeth along his sensitive cock. 

“Shit, Sam, watch the teeth. That hurts.” The mouth was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Are you sure that this is where your dick goes?” Yeah, he was sure. Kristen had an awesome mouth and he wanted that feeling from Sam. 

“Yeah, I am sure. Ok, here is what I want you to do: I want you to just hold my dick in your mouth for a few minutes. No licking, or sucking and absolutely no teeth, Ok? Just get used to the feeling of holding something in there.” The mouth was back on his prick. At first, Sam did as he was told, but then the younger boy swallowed. Wow that felt good. He made up his mind, Sam was going to have sit on the floor of the Impala and just hold his dick in his mouth and every time Sammy played with his prick, he would make a mental tally. At the end of the car ride, he was going to punish Sam for each tally. Just the mental image made Dean’s cock tighten painfully. 

“You aren’t supposed to play with it just yet,” Dean chuckled. “But that felt so good. Swallow again.” The muscles tightening and moving along his cock felt like Heaven. Dean was going to train Sammy to be the best cock sucker ever. His mouth was going to be molded to just fit around his penis. 

“Suck it, suck it hard.” The suction of Sam’s mouth had Dean seeing stars. Unfortunately, like most 13 year olds, he didn’t have a lot of self-control; he was going to come soon.

With heavy breaths, Dean commanded, “Ok, bob your head back and forth. But watch the teeth, ok? Like that. Fuck. Keep going. Is that your tongue? No, put it back – lick around the --- Gaahh. -- You ready for your dessert?” The feeling of Sam’s tongue in the piss slit made Dean lose all of his self-control. He let that delicious pressure go. Sam was off of his penis as soon as the white sperm hit his tongue, splitting out the bitter liquid. 

Dean felt that he should have been disappoint that he hadn’t swallowed it, but seeing it drip down the left side of his brother’s cheek was kinda hot. Besides, he was sure that Sam would have a lot of practice swallowing it from now on. 

“Good job. My thighs are tingling so hard right now. Come up here, baby boy,” Dean said when he got his breath back and buttoned up his pants. Sam followed his instructions and ended up sitting facing Dean, with one leg on each side of his body. His jeans were still undone and his little boy cock was still hanging out; it half-way sat on top of Dean’s crotch. Using one hand, he wiped the come off of Sam’s face and held it out for him to lick up. The younger boy made a face but obediently followed the obvious instruction. Dean leaned down in the seat so that it was hard to see them from the lower rows and grasped Sam’s cock again. As he stroked it, he kissed Sam silently. He could taste himself inside that warm mouth, but he didn’t think about it. Besides, Dean was a little more worried about the couple who kept turning around trying to see what was going on.

Learning to Submit

Chapter 10 Part B The Accident

When Sammy turned 9 and Dean was 13, Dean learned how easy it would be to lose his brother.

“Yeah, my master and me got it yesterday.” Sam said as he showed off his new, slightly used skateboard from Goodwill. Sam could picture it now, he would be the next Tony Hawk Pro-Skater and Master would think he was the greatest ever. The other boys looked at it enviously.

“Sam, uhh --- You need to put the skateboard away now or I’ll be taking it,” Mrs. Baker asked kindly. She seemed to have a sad smile on her face. As she crouched down to Sam’s eyelevel, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you can still use it after class.”

Sam hurried to put the board next to the small cubbies on the side of the room. Then he joined the rest of the class where Mrs. Baker went over long division again. After the lecture and a small busy work assignment, Mrs. Baker quietly excused herself from class with the promise to be right back.

o . o . o

The next day, Sam was called down to the principal’s office with Mrs. Baker. Inside the office, sat Principal Nesbitt and a rather plump lady with shoulder length blonde hair. Both of them sat on the same side. Nesbitt sat in his regular office chair; someone must have dragged a straight, stiff regular chair from the conference room for the woman.

“Have a seat, Sam,” Principal Nesbitt said kindly. Sam was confused. Had he done something wrong? He had been doing all of his homework and hadn’t been in any fights recently. Mrs. Baker helped him get seated in front of the large desk into one of two overstuffed chairs. The type of chair that Sam could sit in and disappear to. She gently squeezed his shoulder and backed up, watching the scene in front of her.

“Sam, this is Mrs. Clarke and she wants to talk to you about your home life.” The principal told Sam as his teacher quietly exited the back of the room.

“Ummm, OK.” Sam felt butterflies in his stomach; he wasn’t supposed to talk to other people about his home life. Sir would get mad. Wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans, he looked at the blonde lady again. “Uh, what would you like to know?”

“Can you describe your typical day to me, Sam?” she asked with a gentle smile and twinkling eyes. Sam could tell right away she was a good person, but if he talked to authorities about what Sir did, Sir could get in trouble. So, he decided he would lie about it.

“Well, I got to go to school every day and when I get home, I do homework and stuff.” Sam answered promptly. There, that was normal and it wasn’t illegal. Mrs. Clarke smiled at the answer.

“And do you enjoy school?” He nodded enthusiastically. School was awesome. He got to play with kids his own age, learn about cool stuff, and pretend that this family didn’t hunt things, that they were an average-Joe family. 

“I’m glad. Tell me what do you do before school? When do you get up? What do you eat for breakfast? Who helps you get ready?” she prompted with an encouraging smile. He felt at ease. This was easy; he wasn’t going to get Sir in trouble. There wasn’t any questions about what his dad did for a living!

“Well, Dean – that’s my big brother – gets me up around 7 and we eat a bowl of lucky charms. He helps me get ready and takes me to school on his bike, but a few days ago, I got a skateboard, so I think I am going to ride it to school from now on.” Mrs. Clarke turned and whispered something into Principal Nesbitt’s ear, who nodded and proceeded to leave the room. Uh-oh, did he say something wrong? That sounded normal, didn’t it?

“What about your mom or dad, Sam?” she asked as she jotted down details in the notebook spiral in front of her. What was she writing? Sam couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. He didn’t want to get in trouble or get his family in trouble.

“My mom is dead.” 

“Oh, I am so sorry to hear that. So, it is just your dad taking care of you and your brother?”

“Yeah,” Sam mumbled. He didn’t think she was so nice anymore. Why was she asking him all these questions? Was Sir Ok? Did he get arrested?

“Does he help you in the mornings?” There was a pause as he refused to answer. “Sam, honey, where was he this morning?” Sam shut down. He didn’t know what to say. Sir hadn’t been home in two days because he was busy protecting people. Sam had Master; he didn’t need anyone else to take care of him or look out for him. 

“That’s Ok, Sam, why don’t we move on and talk about your … necklace,” she struggled to find a word for the dog collar around his throat. Sammy reached up to grab the mentioned object. 

“When did you start wearing that?”

“I dunno. A while ago, I guess.” She frowned and Sam regretted his answer even more. His hand dropped.

“Sam, it’s ok. You are not in trouble. I am here to help you.” She said as gently as she could. As she moved to take his hand resting on top of the desk, he moved it away. He couldn’t think of a clearer way to say, I want to go now. 

“What do the tags say?”

“If lost, call Dean,” he whispered. This day couldn’t get any worse for Sam. He was going to get in so much trouble and get his family in so much trouble. What was he supposed to do? He wanted Sir or Master here. They would know what to do or what to say.

“Call Dean? Not your dad?”

“Dean is closer; it’s only in case I get lost,” he said as he shook his head. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself. 

“Mrs. Baker said that you called someone Master the other day. Is that your dad? Did he give you the necklace?” 

“I like my collar. It’s so I don’t get lost.” Sam all but screamed at the lady. He had had it. She didn’t need to be asking him all these questions. Nothing was wrong with him – - and nothing was wrong with his family. Why didn’t she see that?

“I want to go back to class, please,” he basically pleaded. But before the lady could respond, he heard a very familiar voice screaming his name.

“Sam?!” Master! He was here. He would know what to do. Sam jumped down from the large chair in front of the principal’s desk and ran to the door. 

“Dean? Dean!” The door swung open. There was Dean with Principal Nesbitt.

o . o . o

“I heard you yelling, is everything OK?” Sam was obviously upset. He had a classic bitch face that only a nine year old could pull. He pressed up against his side. Dean threw an arm around him as he glared up at the lady who had obviously upset his little brother.

Dean wasn’t sure what was going on. He had just been called to the Principal’s office on the intercom and seen the elementary school principal talking with his. Sam’s principal had asked him to come with, that there was someone he needed to talk to. So, here he was with an upset little brother and two strangers looking at them. 

Dean knew he had to take control over whatever situation this was. He gently led Sam to one of the large chairs in front of the desk and pulled them both into it. Sam was half way sitting in his lap, but they both fit comfortably. And to be honest, Dean liked feeling Sam right there. It was like both of them were together against the world – or at least against institutionalized mind control. The adults didn’t seem too happy that they had taken the same chair, but said nothing.

“You must be Dean Winchester,” a blonde woman asked, but continued without pause. “I am Julia Clarke. I am here to talk to you and your brother about your home life.” Dean frowned. He knew that he and Sam didn’t have the most normal home life, but it wasn’t like they were abused or anything.

“Sam, here was just talking about his necklace,” she explained as if Sam wasn’t scared and upset. But Sam being scared and upset was probably what was making the woman even more inquisitive. So Dean decided he would play it off as if it wasn’t a big deal – nothing in their life was a big deal.

“That old thing? Sammy, kiddo, did you tell her how you got it?” He looked down at the kid and continued. “I gave it to Sam as a gag gift. Dad had taken us to the rodeo and he got lost. I said he needed a collar in case it ever happened again and he loved it.” Sam tugged on the collar; it was obviously a habit he developed to make himself feel safe. Dean turned to face Mrs. Clarke and continued, “We constantly move around, so I made sure to put our phone number on it, instead of an address.”

“He told me it has your name on it and not your dad’s.” 

“Well, Dad is normally pretty busy with work, so…”

“And what does your father do?”

“He sells and fixes things.”

“What happens when you do something your dad doesn’t like?” She asked. Dean paused. What kind of question was that?

“Well, I guess like every other kid on the planet, we get in trouble. Look, we are not abused or anything like that,” he responded, but Mrs. Clarke wasn’t looking at him. 

“Sam, what happens when you do something your dad doesn’t like?” Dean could feel Sam’s small hand gripping him tightly. Dean padded his back in encouragement to answer the question.

“It depends. Sometimes I get a spanking, other times I get a time out.” 

“And do the spankings hurt?” Do the spankings hurt? Of course! They are spankings. Dean narrowed his eyes. This was getting too far out of control. Sammy shook his head, not looking at the woman. Dean knew that Sam’s muted and scared look was fueling the lady’s belief that their dad was abusing them. 

“What does he hit with?” 

Sam looked up confused, so Dean answered for him, “His hand.” 

“Does your dad make you call him anything special?” she continued. 

“Special? What do you mean?” 

“Does he make you call him Master?” Oh, shit. Had Sam been talking about him? Was that how this whole thing got started? 

“No. We are supposed to call him Sir sometimes – but we are supposed to call any adult by ma’am or sir. Where did you get that idea?” When Dean had been talking, Sam looked up and launched onto the idea.

“Mrs. Baker said that Sam was calling someone Master the other day ---“

“No, I didn’t. I didn’t say that. She must have missed heard. She must’ve.” Dean knew it would have been much more convincing if Sam didn’t sound so desperate. 

The lady visibly didn’t believe him, but she smiled anyways to reassure him. Yeah, Sam always could play the kicked puppy card and everyone would fall over backwards to make him happy – well, everyone but him. Dean was very much immune to those puppy dog eyes . . . mostly, anyways. 

She turned her attention back to Dean. “We have been trying to get in touch with your father since last night, but have been unable to do so. Do you have any idea on how to get in touch with him?”

“He doesn’t have cell phone reception where he is at.” 

She didn’t look convinced, but replied, “Well, we will just talk to him when he picks you boys up.”

“Ma’am, he doesn’t pick us up from school. Sammy and I ride to school on my bike.” 

“Well, what time do you expect him home?” 

“Oh, uhhh – around 8, I guess?” 

“Then we will be at your place around 8,” she said with a finality in her voice. Crap. Dean didn’t want them to show up around 8 just to figure out he meant 8 pm about two or three days from now. Maybe he could call Uncle Bobby or Pastor Jim to cover for them. 

“Great, we will see you there.” Dean moved to get him and Sam from the office as fast as possible.

Mrs. Clarke cleared her throat and Dean paused. “Unfortunately, Mr. Winchester, until your father has been cleared, you and your brother will be staying with some friends of mine.” 

 

Fuck.

o . o . o

The foster home, that Mrs. Clarke took them to, was in a nice neighborhood. It was the type of neighborhood with white picket fences, community meetings and older, established trees. Sam was practically in awe of the place or maybe that was just Dean’s resentment kicking in. If Sam had been just a little more cooler and put together, they would have been back home. 

Dean wasn’t quite sure what to do. He knew that they didn’t have the most normal childhood and he knew that other brothers didn’t treat their little brothers like he did. But Sam was happy. He made sure of that. And yeah, he punished the kid from time to time, but he didn’t abuse him – and Sam could stop him any time he wanted to. 

As they drove up to the small two story home, Sam tried to grab his hand, but he pulled away. Blaming Sam for this messed up situation seemed easier than blaming how they were raised. Besides, he was the one who messed up and said Master in front of a school teacher. Dean just hoped that Dad did show up, hoped that they weren’t here long. 

By the time the car stopped, two adults and a small child waited at the door. From a first glance, they seemed normal, but Dean was still going to mutter ‘Christo’ and spread salt over everything as soon as he got the chance. 

“Hi, you must be Dean and Sam,” said the mom. She had brown hair with streaks of gray and looked to be in her early forties. “I’m Linda and this is Brian and Erin.” She pointed to her husband and blonde toddler. Brian was definitely in his late forties, maybe early fifties. He had a round belly and thinning blonde hair. The toddler took after her father.

“Hi,” Sam said. Dean step forward a bit to block their view of his brother. Damn it, Sammy, they didn’t know anything about them just yet. One day, Dean knew Sam would not be so trusting. But even though he was mad at him, he was still going to protect him now and later when he didn’t need it. Because it was his job as both the Master and the older brother. 

“Christo,” Dean said like it was a normal greeting. Erin giggled like he had told a joke, but Brian didn’t seem so amused.

“Excuse me?” he deadpanned. 

“I said Hello,” he replied with a smirk that no one bought. Sam leaned into his back. There was an awkward pause as everyone just looked at each other. Finally, Linda spoke up.

“Well, let’s show you where you’ll be staying.”

o . o . o

It had been three days since they had been placed with the Evans. Since then, Sam had watched Master get into one fight after another with the family. The first fight had been about sleeping together. Linda had wanted them each to have their own room, but Dean outright refused. The argument ended when he snuck into Sam’s room for the second night. There had been countless other arguments over what Master and Sam had been allowed to do. Brian would tell them to go play and Master would make them do their homework. To be fair, that argument didn’t last very long because what grown up in their right mind would complain about a kid doing their homework. But both boys could tell Brian felt disrespected at being disobeyed. So, when Master let them play when they were supposed to be doing chores, a large fight broke out that got them both sent to bed without supper. 

Sam lied cuddled up next to Master. Since they had arrived at the Evans’ house, it was the only place that Sam felt at home. Master’s arm was lightly draped over his shoulder. Sam could feel his fingers trace around his wrist and they talked quietly to each other.

“I’m hungry,” Sam quietly complained as though it was wrong for him to physically feel that way.

“I know. I promise I will sneak downstairs and grab something when they all go to bed,” Master gently shushed him. A quiet came over both boys as they merely enjoyed the others presence. Sam could feel this thoughts racing. After quite a few minutes, Sam broke the silence.

“Master?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you mad at me?” The strumming stopped on his arm. Sam could feel the other boy’s eyes trying to catch his, but he stared out the window pretending he didn’t see. He knew that Master should be pissed at him right now. He had messed up, broken their biggest rule and now their family was broken. Family was everything to him – to them.

“What makes you think that?”

Sam was silent for a time. “I messed up,” he admitted out loud, knowing that his older brother already knew it. “Now, we may never see Sir again.”

Master sighed. “Nah, Dad should have been able to pick up the phone.” He softly kissed the top of Sam’s head. “I would much rather be here with you than with Dad, any day.”

o . o . o

When a hush fell over the house, Dean quietly tip-toed pass the Evan’s bedroom, down the stairs and into the kitchen. Training for sneaking up on monsters made sneaking around the house easy as pie. He grabbed two pop tarts and headed back up the stairs. 

On the top step, he saw a light come on in the parents’ bedroom. Uh oh. Had they heard him? Dean had made sure not to step on any creaky stairs. He slowly crept forward as to pass the bedroom door. 

“I am telling you, there is something off about those boys,” Brian’s voice came through the door.

“Of course there is something off about those two boys – they have been neglected by their parents, they grew up without any role models,” Linda’s voice carried under Brian’s. “It’s not their fault. Dean had to be the parent – we are encroaching on his kid and all he knows is that adults are unreliable. Of course, he is going to fight back. Remember what he said? ‘I take care of Sam. Me. I’ve always done it and I will always do it. Sam is my responsibility.’ That is all he knows.” Linda tried to explain. Part of the reason Mrs. Clarke had dropped them off with the Evans was Linda. She worked as a child therapist.

“So, what? We let him behave like that? And just give in?”

“I am not saying give in. But this behavior is not ours to correct. It will be their new parents’ jobs. Both boys are just reacting to the change of scenery and uncertainty of the situation by clinging to each other. I think I am going to make the recommendation to split them up though. It will be easier on both of them to start new. Dean won’t have to be the parent and Sam can learn to listen to adults instead of Dean.” Dean was shocked. Split them up? Who the hell did this lady think she was? Sammy was his. They didn’t have weird behavior – everyone else did. And it wasn’t like he abused Sam. He would run away before he let them split them up. They could go to Uncle Bobby’s and wait for Dad or maybe head to the abandoned cabin in Virginia and send Dad a message there. It didn’t matter what they did, Dad, him and Sam would be together again; he was sure of it.

Dean wanted to stay and listen more, but he was afraid what would happen if he got caught. Plus, he quietly reminded himself, he had a baby brother to feed. Just as silently as he had left the room, he entered their bedroom. 

Still curled up on the bed where he had left him was Sam. He smiled at the treat he had brought him. Dean handed him a packet of pop tarts to which Sammy replied thanks. As both boys munched on the snack before bed, Dean looked out the windows. They were on the second story, but right underneath the window was a wooden thing for plants to grow on. Dean didn’t know what they were called, but he knew that they would be easy to climb down. Maybe they should leave tonight?

“Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to stay here?” Dean couldn’t bring himself to ask the question he was dying to ask. He knew that their family was different and he knew that sometimes Sam had a hard time with it. But, if given the choice, would Sam want to be with another family? Would Sam want to leave him? Although it wasn’t cold in the room, Dean wrapped an arm around himself.

“What do you mean? Is Sir not coming to get us?” Dean thought Sam’s voice held fear in it. That was a good sign.

“No, I mean, do you want to live with a family like this?” The without me part was unspoken. Dean held his breath.

“Sometimes, I want to be like other normal families,” Sam admitted. Dean felt the air rush out of his lungs. He didn’t think he could stand losing his brother. “But I want us more.” There was a pause. 

“I just want things to go back to normal,” Sam concluded. Thank God. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing Sam. His tongue slide out of his mouth to lick his lips. Sam granted him entrance and Dean brought one hand to cup his face while the other guide Sam to lay flat so that Dean was on top of him, kissing him deeply.

He ended the kiss with a whisper, “Then we might have to leave here. Just act like everything is normal and tomorrow I will get everything ready, Ok?” Dean mentally started planning the things he needed to lift tomorrow – clothes, blankets, the cash in the kitchen drawer.

o . o . o

While the next day started out the same, it was not like the other three days the Winchester boys had spent with the Evans. Both Sam and Dean had an energy to them. They clung to each other when they thought that the Evans weren’t looking. They hid smiles when their hands clasped the other. They sat together on the couch when an officer arrived at the door.

“Boys, I want you to meet Officer Victor Henriksen. He is going to be taking you to the courtroom today.” Brian introduce a tall African-American police officer. He was so young, it looked like it was his first day of work. “Officer, this is Sam and Dean.”

“Hello, boys.” Dean shuffled closer to Sam. His stomach sank. They should have left last night. He thought that they would have had a couple of days at least before some asshole decided to split them up. 

“Hello.” Sam said to the officer. Fuck, Sam, you don’t have to be nice to this asshole, Dean couldn’t help but think.

“Whatever.” Dean scoffed and winced as Sam stepped on his foot. Ouch. That little bitch. Dean frowned hard and slammed his foot right back. 

“Boys,” Brian’s warning tone came ringing out. Officer Henriksen had watched the display with a smile on his face. 

“It’s fine. Boys will be boys. As Mr. Evans just told you, I am going to be taking you back to the court house, but before we go, I wanted to talk to you.” The policeman stopped and looked pointedly at Brian, who quickly said his goodbyes and left the room.

When he was gone, Victor continued. “Now I know that this has been a scary time for you both, but I wanted to tell you that you are not alone. If you need any help, or if you are hurt for any reason, you can call me and I will give you my phone number.”

Dean cut in, “We just want to go home – not to some stupid orphanage or another retarded foster home.” 

The older man paused, “And you are going home today if everything works out.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Your dad has a court order for us to return you to him from some hot shot judge a few counties up. No one is real sure how he got it. That is why I am taking you to him. But if he is hurting you – either of you – you don’t have to be afraid. You don’t have to go back.” That was awesome. Dad must have called in some hunting favor to get that court order.

“He isn’t hurting us.” Sam interrupted loudly and quickly. It was the same kind of look and attitude that got them here in the first place. Dean was going to work on Sam’s poker face and acting skills later. 

“Ok, but there are other types of things a parent can do that is bad. He can go away for days, or always be drunk, or do bad things to punish you like tying you up, or constantly calling you bad names or making you do and say things.” Dean looked at Sam. Between both him and Dad, that sounded a lot of how Sam grew up. 

“He isn’t a bad dad. I want to go home.” Dean didn’t voice his agreement with Sam’s statement. Since this whole thing had started, he had kept telling himself that Sam wasn’t being abused, but maybe, maybe he was and maybe he was the abuser.

o . o . o

When the boys first saw their dad, Sam felt his Master push him in front so that when their dad’s arms enveloped them, he was in the middle of a giant bear hug. He could feel his brother pressed up against his back and his dad pressed against his chest. It was the most epic of epic bear hugs. The people in the courthouse had different expressions on. Officer Henrikson looked pissed, and several other legal people like Mrs. Clarke standing in the corner looked disgusted. Random families who had no clue what had been going on looked happy for them though. Sam chose to focus on those people.

All too soon, the hug ended and they were back at the hotel. Sam crawled into the bed that he shared with Master. As soon as his older brother had gotten out of the bathroom, he was cuffed to the bed and was out like a light.

o . o . o

Tomorrow Dean knew that he and Dad were going to talk about what had gone on and how to stop it in the future. But tonight, they were going to enjoy each other’s company. Both sat on the edge of the bed with a sleeping Sammy. 

“Can I touch him?” John asked. Dean nodded his approval. Quickly, John threaded his fingers through Sammy’s long locks. Dean noticed a darkness in his dad that he hadn’t before. There was almost a possessive, dark look. But what kind of dad would give his son that look? And what kind of dad would give his son away?

“Why did you give him to me?” Dean whispered. 

“Because I wanted you both to be loved completely,” he answered simply. Dean frowned at the answer. John saw the look and continued, “No one will ever love you like family loves you.” 

John lightly traced Sam’s face. His cute brother scrunched up his nose and turned his head. 

“Do you think it’s wrong what we do to Sam?” His father’s hands left the boy and John gave Dean his full attention. 

“Wrong? What have they been putting into your head?”

“Shouldn’t he have the freedom to – I dunno, do what he wants to do? Treating him like a slave? Making him sleep chained up? All that shit.” His voice raised from a whisper into a normal pissed off level, but in the quiet room, it seemed as though he was shouting.

“Did they tell you that Sam was abused? That what was being done to him was wrong?” John got up from the bed and walked over to the dresser. He grabbed a bottle of Jack from the top and drank it straight. “Do you think you hurt Sam? Do you think he wants to leave?”

“No,” Dean replied, but he wasn’t sure he was answering the question. Yes, sometimes he hurt Sam – but that was only when he was punishing him. And maybe he did punish him for made up things or punished him too hard for other things – but he didn’t think that he abused the kid.

“You say you are treating him like a slave, but he can stop it at any time. He grew up this way Dean – he grew up your way. You take that away from him now and he won’t know how to go up or down.” There was a pause as Dean watched his dad who took another swallow of the amber liquid. “Don’t you like how he is turning out?” 

Dean looked at Sam asleep right next to him. He brought his hand up to touch his tummy. He didn’t think he could give up his brother anymore. And he liked having an adoring Sam look up at him waiting for the next instruction; he liked having an arguing Sam fighting him tooth and nail; he just liked Sam.

His father continued from across the room, “I think he is turning out just fine. You love your brother, don’t’ you?”

“Yes, more than anything.” 

“Then that is all that matters. Go to sleep.” Dean followed his father’s order and curled up next to Sam. Even though there was still thoughts racing through his head, he was so exhausted from the last half week that he was asleep within minutes. He would figure out what to do later.

John watched both boys with a belly full of alcohol. He would have to stop Dean’s thought path soon. He wanted Dean to control Sam – that way whatever plan for his baby old Yellow Eyes had would have to go through Dean if he wasn’t there to protect him. It was important that it stayed this way.


End file.
